


Debauchery and Despoilment

by OfficialHermitsUnited



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:04:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialHermitsUnited/pseuds/OfficialHermitsUnited
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think it'd be Snape doing the debauching and despoiling, right? Nah. <br/>A new face hits the scene of Grimmauld Place and starts changing the natural course of events, beginning with the release of Severus Snape from bondage as a Death Eater and a Spy for the Order. Marriage, subterfuge, and general destruction of Dumbledore's less than moral plots ensue, along with a simultaneous introduction and apostasy of morality. </p><p>*The tags and summary are a work in progress much like the work itself, however the rating and warnings are set in stone*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shanghaied

**Author's Note:**

> Shanghaied: to enroll or obtain (a sailor) for the crew of a ship by unscrupulous means, as by force or the use of liquor or drugs.

The chair was cushy, and a cocoon of warmth encircled her by means of a soft blanket. She breathed a deep sigh, not quite conscious but in a half hazy state listening with sensitive ears to her surroundings. There were other mouth breathers in the room, and they were whispering, but whispering what she couldn't make out. The scents she breathed in weren't indicative as a place she would have fallen asleep; the distinct tickle of dust and mildew reached her allergy-prone sinuses and she longed to sneeze but the feeling wouldn't build.

Opening her eyes, she tried to blink away the bleariness making it hard to see, only to realize she wasn’t wearing her glasses. There were semi visible blobs to her left brown, black, and matching orange tops, greens and blues and pinks in the middle, and blues and browns on the bottom. She decided they might be people, what with the way they swayed and moved, and she squinted trying to will her eyes into focusing. Deciding in the presence of others it would be impolite to open her mouth in a huge yawn like she wanted to, so she settled for a smaller close-mouthed one.

“Hello?” she called out in a sleep stained groggy voice to the moving pillars. “Any one of you whispering blobs know where my glasses are at?”

“No, ma’am, you didn’t come with any already on your face. Are they in your pocket?” asked a juvenile feminine voice in a hopeful tone.

She felt around in the pockets of her robe beneath the blanket, searching for the much needed pair of lenses. Huffing in annoyance, she closed her eyes in hopes of abating the coming headache.

“Can you tell me where I am?” she asked the unknown people.

“Er… I’m not exactly sure we’re allowed to tell - but you are safe,” the same voice replied.

The sound of a door opening drew her listening attention, and a set of footsteps followed by the swishing of robes. There was tangible tension in the room, most likely due to its new occupant, who finally after a moment of silence decided to speak.

“Fawley wake up,” the familiar male voice demanded.

“Shit, Severus, where am I?” Fawley demanded of one Severus Snape, who was, coincidentally, the last person she remembered seeing.

“The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix; due to your future . . . position,” he sneered, “you will be subject to questioning and eventual admission into the Order. If you’ll behave, I will return your glasses, but until your admission your wand will be in safekeeping.”

Sighing and rubbing her face, she nodded and untangled a hand to finally receive her glasses. Taking a corner of the blanket she rubbed the lenses to rid them of particles, checking every so often to mark progress. After a moment of cleaning in which Severus or the unknown people didn't move an inch, she finally put the black frames on her face blinking around at the room she was in. It was as dingy looking as it smelled, as if it had been around untouched for some time. On a wall was a large tapestry with names and faces all over it, and she realized where she was.

“How were you so sure I wouldn’t have come on my own? Emmeline is a good friend of mine and I know she’s in it so it can’t be so terrible.”

“Call it a hunch,” he replied.

She finally looked over at the four teenagers sitting in a row on the large sofa. Two of the teens had orange hair and a multitude of freckles: a boy and a younger girl most likely related, and even more likely Weasleys. There was also a bookish looking girl with big brown eyes and even bigger brown bushy hair. Between her and the ginger boy was a familiar face from the papers over the past couple of years. Harry Potter sat with messy black hair, dark skin, and bright green eyes which stared  at the two adults through round boyish spectacles.

Standing and catching the blanket, Fawley folded it and put it back in the chair, righted her forest green robes and smoothed down her hair to look presentable.

“Shall we, then?” she asked Severus, motioning for the door.

He gave a curt nod and went out the door ahead of her. Fawley gave the foursome on the couch an almost comical look with a waggle of fingers that parodied a wave as she followed the dour man clad in black.

The house was in general dilapidated. It seemed like something one would find abandoned in the middle of nowhere, but Fawley knew well enough that the Black House had been surrounded by muggle development. There were people appearing through various means. A section of the room was set for apparition, the front door had several admissions, and the floo was streaming out people. Most of them she knew, some of them she recognized, and a few of them were new. Being the pure-blood daughter of an outstanding family in the Wizarding World meant she was introduced to many different people in the Wizarding World. As close knit and interwoven as the upper class of the Wizarding World was, it was a simple feat to know the lineages and affiliations of almost every person in the room.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was the first in the room to recognize her as a familiar face and approached her to shake her hand. She took not of the eye contact approval he got from Severus to do so before making contact.

“Miss Fawley, how good to see you again!” he greeted her in his deep voice. She smiled at him, taking his hand in a firm shake. She’d been told her handshakes were like that of a man with twice the bearing.

“It’s good to see you too Auror Shacklebolt, how have you been?” she asked, releasing his hand.

“I’ve been well enough in spite of this Voldemort ruckus. How have you been since - goodness it’s been almost a year since we last spoke!”

“I’ve done well enough all things considered. The Blackwater negotiation is going well enough; I have it on good word that we should reach a compromise suitable for everyone involved within the month. How has your mother been as of late, I’d heard about her heart scare recently?”

“Mother is feeling much better now that she’s doing as the Healers direct her to instead of smoking like a dragon and eating her way through two cakes a day,” he told her with a chuckle. They both grinned, with inside knowledge into the geriatric antics his mother got up to in her spare time when she wasn’t terrorizing the Newspaper. Out of the corner of her eye, Fawley could see Severus getting agitated. She immediately sought to keep any outbursts from affecting her ability to communicate with her old acquaintance.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, I’m sure we’ll have another chance to catch up in the future,” she told him, waiting for him to begin his bow out before bowing out as well.

Aiming a side glance at Severus she raised her eyebrow in question.

“Our first time out in public and you immediately speak to another man, what will you do when this arrangement goes public and it’s made known you are friendly with so many men?” he hissed, stepping closer so that no one would be privy to their words.

Keeping her face controlled and passive so as to not provoke him, Fawley replied in a hushed tone “I spoke to a well to do Head Auror and old friend who has no more interest in taking me off your hands than in the price of tea imports from Ecuador. Do allow me more credit in the future, I don’t discriminate against gender while making and speaking with friends.” He turned his nose up at her, reminding her of a child almost at once. “I don’t pretend to be happy with my – our current situation but I will not have my well constructed social life turned to ruin because you can’t get over yourself. My connections are all I have. Professional and reasonable in a platonic fashion, and you will hold your peace while I tend to them. They may prove us some good in the future.”

Fawley turned away with an expression of subtle defiance and cold dismissal. She knew the man to be callous but jealousy would not do. Across the large foyer they occupied, her best friend Emmeline Vance stood next to her husband and fellow Auror Markus. Walking through the crowd of people with a wide smile, Fawley stepped in beside her, linking their arms while she was in mid conversation with another Order member. Emmeline looked surprised at seeing her friend here, looking up at her in slight confusion twined with happiness and never faltered in her banter with the other woman. As soon as their conversation was over, Emmeline embraced Fawley, grinning from ear to ear as she squeezed the taller woman with all her might.

“Echo I wasn’t expecting you here! How are you? You look well enough to eat,” Emmeline told her before putting her hands on her upper arms and squeezing in a comforting gesture.

Echo Fawley smiled at her with a sparkle in her eye. “I’m alright; this Order business was unexpected but it will have to do I suppose in light of the Blackwater arrangement.”

“The Blackwater . . . ? Echo is everything a business arrangement to you?” Emmeline asked laughingly, knowing better.

“It’s what it’s been called since the contract began to take form; and it’s the Manor in which we’ll be staying after we sign,” Echo let her eyes roam the other people in the room, making a split second of eye contact with Severus before returning to Emmeline’s smiling face.

“How was the section of the contract that concerned titles worked out by the way, you said there was a bump in the road?”

“Yes, it was quite funny to see his reaction; he thinks I’m trying to emasculate him of all things. As far as head of the household, distributer of funds, and breadwinner, I will be the ‘husband’. He, as the overseer of the home, my second in command over the funds and Head of House duties, will be the ‘wife’. I could care less about it all but it has a lot of legal bearing,” Echo replied.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this Echo? If you don’t want to go through with this, you haven’t got to. I’m sure you of all people can find a way to get out of any obligations you have as a Head of House,” Emmeline pleaded with the older woman. She always had an air that signing this particular contract was a bad idea, that there must be another way.

“Emmeline, this is necessary. You’ll see the reasoning behind my plan soon enough, but for now just trust me, alright?” After a moments silence in which Emmeline searched Echo’s face for any sign of backing out, she conceded with a sigh and nodded. Echo smiled. “Now tell me about this news I've heard about you having a little niece soon?”

The two women chatted amiably until Dumbledore called Echo away to a drawing room on the second floor.

“Miss Fawley, I hope you aren’t too displeased with having been shanghaied so abruptly,” Dumbledore asked, dipping in to what she knew to be his more grandfatherly persona.

“No, Headmaster, I knew it was to come, but I am thankful I was whisked away at a time suitable to my busy schedule. Any other time and I may have had to resort to drastic measures to leave. I do control a lucrative business.”

His eyes grew stern, switching into a more commanding version of himself. “Do you accept what has to be done?”

She eyed him for a moment, considering. “If you mean going through with the contract and joining your little organization, then yes. Everything else, of course, is up in the air until I agree to it. I do have one final stipulation to our bargain.”

“Go on,” Dumbledore allowed, raising a busy eyebrow.

“I will teach Defense this year at Hogwarts.”

They began a stare down. Echo looked him dead in the eye in challenge, keeping her Occlumency shields up while acknowledging the threat he was posing. After what seemed like a decent amount of time, he nodded. They drew wands and made a low-key oath that it would be carried through, and with wands still raised in salute, came down to the main course of business.

“Echo Fawley do you swear to abide by the duties as a wife of an Order Member to follow the rules and uphold utmost secrecy of member identities, plans, and interworking parts of the Order of the Phoenix?”

“I swear,” she replied, feeling the rush of magic around her.

“Do you, Echo Fawley, swear to attend all possible Order Meetings regardless of subject or importance?”

“I swear.” The second rush of magic that followed was stronger.

“And do you, Echo Fawley, swear to carry out any and all Order missions given to you to the best of your ability, ensuring the safety and care of Muggles and Muggleborns involved in these missions?”

“I swear.” The third rush of magic was supposed to seal the deal, but there was a lingering feeling of something amiss. She reviewed the vows in her head.

“Your full admittance will come with the signing of your contract,” Dumbledore clarified.

She nodded, putting her wand away.

“You’ll be sitting in on today’s meeting to get the gist of how they go and to understand the hierarchy of how discussion works. I would suggest that you didn’t inject your own opinions on your first meeting, but I’m sure that advice would do unheeded.”

Smirking, Echo replied “Now now, Headmaster, where would you get that idea from?” She left the room at a leisurely pace, examining the house as she progressed and greeted everyone by name as she walked out of earshot.

Dumbledore was left standing alone in the room, his wand laden arm lax at his side, looking for all the world like he had just realized a great fault in what he’d done.


	2. Wedlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedlock: Marriage, also called matrimony or wedlock, is a socially or ritually recognized union or legal contract between spouses that establishes rights and obligations between them, between them and their children, and between them and their in-laws. (Courtesy of Wikipedia)

In one of the empty, dusty rooms of number 12 Grimmauld Place, Echo Fawley sat on a towel on the floor with chalk, drawing the bonding circle for herself and Severus. They had come to a contractual agreement only ten minutes before, and she now held a copy of it along with an old runic tome, etching the special symbols of matrimony, long lasting good fortune, friendship, love, and a few other traditional emblems. It couldn’t hurt to be hopeful, she supposed, given the circumstances.

After another ten minutes with a piece of string, a pencil, and a large chunk of chalk, she was finished. Echo waved her wand, putting a temporary stasis charm on the intricate chalk design, and stood to fetch the other four people involved with the ceremony. Severus (as usual) was clad in black from head to toe, however she did note the lack of wrinkles and shined boots, and took it as a good sign. Professor Minerva McGonagall, an old teacher of Echo’s, was in tartan but with nothing spectacular attending as a witness. Dumbledore was resplendent in a flashy set of eye cringing mauve robes, complete with pointy hat and matching boots, and served as the officiator. Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt had also agreed to attend as a witness, and was in his Auror robes, having just gotten away from work. Echo was in the traditional wedding garb befitting a witch: a white dress, and a braid down her back dotted with white flowers, all topped off with a flower crown.

Dumbledore stood just on the edge of the circle, and both Severus and Echo stood around the center of it. Nobody paid much attention to the circle itself, only the words that flowed from Dumbledore’s mouth in Latin that he read from a dusty old book in his hands. Never once did the old man look up to the pair in the center, the dark man whose eyes were riveted on the moving lips of the woman that held his hands. His eyes grew wider as he caught on to what magic she was invoking, but found himself waiting with baited breath to see the outcome.

At last the silvery bands encased their hands to signify the sealing of the magical bond, and a column of white light rose from the edges of the chalk to surround the newlywed pair to the surprise of everyone in the room, excepting of course Echo.

“What is the meaning of this?” Dumbledore roared, throwing down the Latin book in his anger.

“Why, can’t you read runes, Albus?” Echo taunted him, undoing the buttons on the cuff of Severus’ robes carefully.

“Severus, stop her!” Albus commanded his spy, but Severus just stood and watched, mesmerized.

Echo’s fingers almost seemed to caress the soft underside of his forearm where the Dark Mark lay as the magic swirling around them in a heady vortex descended upon it like a waterfall, and he could feel the source chakra of the dark magic unwinding from his very bones to gather beneath the flesh of the magic tattoo. Echo lowered her head, and Severus thought she was going to kiss the ugly mark, but instead she sunk her sharp teeth into the soft skin of his arm. He employed Occlumency to push the pain into the back of his mind, barely noticing it even as blood poured from the wounds. Severus saw exactly what she meant to do, and he was glad of it.

As the tendons of the dark magic writhed about from her bloody mouth as she pulled the magic itself from his arm, and it cut her face as it fought to return to its position as a parasite. Strangely, the cuts healed over as soon as they were made, leaving no blemish, as did the teeth marks on Severus’ arm. The parasite was crushed suddenly in her jaws as she forced the bonds of the magic to separate, and the black dust of it slowly turned from black, to gray, to a blinding white that floated to him and entered his body like sunlight. The black magic had gone from dark, to neutral, to light in a matter of moments, absorbing into his system to cover the inner scars left by the black magic, and took its place as an intrinsic part of him instead of a painful curse leaching his very life from him. Some of that same energy entered Echo’s body, and he watched what must be happening to him as well as the infirmities of her skin gained from age faded slightly, an almost burning taking hold of her eyes as she took her wand out and tapped him on the chest.

Many strings appeared and she plucked at them like a harp, finding the proper one. It was a reddish hue, and sparked when she touched it, but she summoned the same string from within herself and switched them quickly before ending the entire rite and apparating them to the front hall. Harry Potter was there being coddled by several people, writhing on the ground with his hands clamped over his scar, and with her still bloodied hands and mouth, Echo pulled her wand out and cast a spell drawing out what healing power was left from the rite to soothe and block the intense pain.

“What’s wrong Harry?” the bushy haired teen asked the sweat-drenched youth on the floor.

He choked out “S-Snape isn’t His. . . anymore and he’s furious, He’s killing his servants left and right. . . trying to find out how it could have happened.” Harry looked up at the odd pair in confusion.

The tall ginger boy looked them over. “Did you just get married?” he asked bluntly.

Without skipping a beat, Echo supplied “Well spotted, but we must be going.”

 

Echo threw floo powder into the large roaring fire that gave off no heat, saying “Fawley Estate in Blackwater, East Wing Tea Room.” She let Severus go first.

He stepped through into a relatively normal looking tea room, with several daintily carved white tables and chairs with many well cared for plants and large windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling accompanied by thick curtains pulled back with rope to let in light. He stepped out of the way as he surveyed his surroundings, allowing his husband to have a clear path into the room. She glided through gracefully, not bothering to brush the soot off, when he realized that she had none on her – and neither did he. The Malfoy’s house didn’t even have that kind of courteous charmwork, he mused.

He felt a small warm hand latch on to his and tug at it to follow its owner, and he ignored any emotional response it evoked, choosing to listen directly to what Echo was telling him.

“This is the house my first cousins on my father’s side used until this past year; they recently moved to Northern Ireland,” she narrated for him. They moved through the elegant architecture to the main hallway. Echo pointed out no less than ten bathrooms, thirty bedrooms of varying luxury, ten smoking rooms, five sitting rooms, the expansive library, the ballroom, the dining hall, and finally the kitchens where the servants quarters were located.

Having lived most of his adult life in Hogwarts, and visited the Malfoy Manor on many occasions, Severus was aware that Magical establishments could be expansive, however Hogwarts was home to at least a thousand people, who filled most all of the spaces with their chatter and life-giving vibrancy. The Malfoy residence was often home to parties of varying extravagancy, and even when it was only Severus, Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco, the drawing room where they often took their visits had an air of being inhabited. He had had years of practice living alone in a house with no more than six rooms total, filling it with some meager form of life on his own, but could he and his. . . _husband_ \- fill the expansive space with some sort of energy to keep it from being too impersonal?

Caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice when Echo went to the servant’s door until she knocked politely on the wooden surface. Out of a much smaller door about the height of Severus’ waist, came a House Elf. But this house elf wasn’t like the ones he’d seen. She, as he’d gathered from her name (“Delphine”?), wore what looked extremely close to what a human servant would presumably wear. The small blue dress was tailored to her size with a tiny apron and a multitude of pockets. She was wearing what looked like a pair of children’s black Mary Jane’s, with actual stockings. Echo was kneeling on the ground to speak with her, smiling genuinely at the little creature, and Severus felt some small amount of relief to know she wasn’t entirely cruel.

“Delphine, this is my spouse, Severus; we’ve just been married. He’s going to act as the Lady of the house, so anything you think you need permission to do just ask him. We’ll not be here for long, only until the middle of August when we will leave for Hogwarts and be out of your ears.”

“Oh, don’t leave so soon, Missus Fawley!” Delphine begged, and clasped her tiny hands around one of Echo’s. “Stay here! Make some babies for me to take care of, get fat, read books, yes?”

Echo smiled wide and replied “Maybe after the war is over, Delphine, but I have a part to play in all this chaos and it requires me to go to Hogwarts. In the meantime, Severus will be moving his things here from his old home. Help him if he asks, alright?”

Curtseying like a proper lady, Delphine smiled up at Severus in a way he’d never seen one of the Malfoys House Elves react to their presence. “I’m at your service, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Severus was muttering under his breath to himself the entire time he apparated back and forth with his belongings, not foregoing help because of his pride, but more-so because of the shame he knew he would endure having his spouse with her rich history and clean mansion see his dilapidated little hovel in Cokeworth. He moved pile after pile of books into the empty library shelves that had been cleared for this very purpose, and placed his clothing and toiletries in their proper place around the master suite Echo had pointed out to him as the one prepared for their arrival. With a little inward trepidation, he held his head high and made his way to the sitting room where his spouse was sure to be.

To his internal surprise he found Echo on her back on a sofa inspecting her nails whilst talking on a muggle telephone. The chord was wrapped around one of her feet and she seemed to be toying with it absentmindedly while she chatted away.

“…Em, you mustn’t fret so much about this. Mark can kiss my arse for all I care; you need to put your foot down.… If you don’t want to, you aren’t going to, simple as that. I mean this is years of your life we’re talking about, not just some one sided split second decision. As a precautionary measure I would advise you visit St. Mungo’s and start a regimen of a general birth control. You know how conniving Mark can be…. I have to go now, Em, I’ll talk to you tomorrow…. Tea should be fine – I can show you around…. alright, ta, all my love…” She let go of the plastic telephone and it floated on its own back to the receiver. She sat up and adjusted her glasses to look him in the eye.

“I’ve finished moving for now,” he told her curtly.

“Good,” she replied, “it’s about time for afternoon tea, would you care to join me in the back garden?”

He nodded tersely, following her lead through the unfamiliar halls. Out in the expansive multi-use garden, vegetables, herbs, and berries grew tended by the house elves. They sat in extremely comfortable chairs on a small patio in the midst of the tiny Eden, sipping well brewed tea (a variety he saw growing not far from their chairs) and eating a light snack of fruits, breads, cheeses, nuts, and marmalade. It had been hot this summer, the hottest in a while, yet out in the garden it seemed a perpetual airy evenly tempered day. Many years of charms, he surmised, must be the cause because just outside Severus’ front door had been harsh beating sunlight, especially for England that time of year.

“So this evening we’re going to have to have sex.”

Glad not to have anything in his mouth at the time, Severus replied in a blessedly even tone, “Yes, I had surmised as much.”

Echo paused. “How much experience do you have on this subject?”

“… The subject of intercourse or the subject of women?”

She looked over at him thoughtfully. “Both.”

“I have little experience with women in general, except the obvious, and some experience with sex.”

“Do you have any concept of female anatomy?” she asked hopefully.

“What do you mean by that?” be bristled.

She sighed. “Are you familiar with the layout of female genitalia?”

He stared at her, not comprehending. “Are you questioning my knowledge of how to put it in?”

“I’m questioning your knowledge of the existence of the clitoris and it’s role in female orgasm. I will not have sex without getting off at least once and the clitoris is important in that. I won’t fake it for you.”

He felt his face heat, and his expression reflexively turned into a snarl.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Severus, most men, and even many women are not taught about the clitoris in such a sexually repressed society like the Wizarding World, and if you aren’t told you won’t know,” she added in a matter-of-fact voice. She looked as nonchalant as if she were informing him about the state of the dressers in their rooms.

He thought about it for a moment, and threw caution to the wind, asking: “Where exactly is it then?”


End file.
